When The Glory first dropped on Netflix, everyone was obsessed with Moon Dong-eun’s cold, calculated path to destruction. We cheered when the curling iron scars were finally answered with the sound of lives shattering. But then there’s Joo Yeo Jeong.
He’s a weird one, right? On the surface, he’s this "Golden Retriever" boy-next-door with a plastic surgeon’s pedigree and a smile that feels like a warm blanket. But if you look closer—especially at the way he holds a scalpel—there’s something genuinely unsettling under the hood.
Most people see him as just a love interest or a helpful sidekick. Honestly? That’s doing the character a massive disservice. Joo Yeo Jeong isn't just the guy who taught Dong-eun Go; he’s a mirror to her trauma, and in many ways, he’s even more dangerous than she is.
The "Executioner" vs. The Prince Charming
For most of the series, we’re waiting for the typical K-drama trope where the rich, handsome doctor saves the girl from her misery. But Kim Eun-sook, the writer, flips the script. When Dong-eun tells him she doesn't need a prince, but an executioner to join her in the "dance of the swords," he doesn’t blink.
He basically says, "Okay, show me how to swing the blade."
That’s a pivotal moment for Joo Yeo Jeong in The Glory. He isn't trying to heal her. He isn't trying to make her "better" or talk her out of her rage. He validates it. He recognizes that for someone as broken as Dong-eun, traditional "healing" is a slap in the face.
It’s a dark, twisted kind of loyalty.
🔗 Read more: Anjelica Huston in The Addams Family: What You Didn't Know About Morticia
You’ve got to remember the scene where he’s practicing his stabbing technique in his head while looking at the man who killed his father. That’s not the behavior of a stable person. Lee Do-hyun plays this brilliantly, catching that flicker of "something’s not right" in his eyes even when he’s being charming. He’s a man who has been living in a mental prison for years, listening to the sound of water dripping—a sound that triggers the memory of his father’s blood hitting the floor.
Why the "No Chemistry" Complaints Actually Miss the Point
If you browse Reddit or Twitter, you’ll see a lot of fans complaining that Lee Do-hyun and Song Hye-kyo didn't have "sparkling" romantic chemistry. They say he felt too young or that their relationship felt forced.
But think about it: how is a woman who spent eighteen years planning to ruin lives supposed to "flirt"?
Their connection is built on shared silence and the game of Go. It’s a slow-burn relationship between two people who are fundamentally "broken" in the same places.
- He sees her scars—literally—and doesn't recoil.
- She sees his madness and doesn't judge him.
- They are partners in a crime that the law won't punish.
Dong-eun’s relationship with Ha Do-yeong was all about tension and what-ifs, sure. But Joo Yeo Jeong was the only person who could actually walk into the "hell" she created and feel at home. He didn’t want to take her away from her revenge; he wanted to sharpen her tools.
The Trauma Behind the Scalpel
We eventually learn that Yeo Jeong’s father, a renowned hospital director, was murdered by a patient he was trying to save. To make it worse, the killer (Kang Yeong-cheol) spends his time in prison sending Yeo Jeong graphic, taunting letters.
💡 You might also like: Isaiah Washington Movies and Shows: Why the Star Still Matters
Imagine growing up with that.
Every time he picks up a medical instrument, he’s reminded of the weapon that killed his dad. This is why his alliance with Dong-eun is so symbiotic. She gives him a framework for his own repressed violence.
While Dong-eun is the strategist, Yeo Jeong is the one with the resources. He buys the property, he sets up the clinic, and he uses his status to manipulate the system from the inside. He’s the "soft" power to her "hard" determination.
That Ending: The Script Flips
By the time we hit the finale of The Glory, the roles have completely reversed. Dong-eun has finished her "main quest." She’s standing on that roof, ready to end it all because she has no more reason to live.
Then, Yeo Jeong’s mother appears.
She doesn't ask Dong-eun to be happy; she asks her to help her son. She asks her to be his executioner.
📖 Related: Temuera Morrison as Boba Fett: Why Fans Are Still Divided Over the Daimyo of Tatooine
This is where the show gets really interesting. The final scenes show them at the prison, ready to start a whole new cycle of vengeance. The "Glory" wasn't just Dong-eun’s anymore. It became a shared project.
They aren't "healed" in the traditional sense. They’re just no longer alone in their darkness.
How to Appreciate Joo Yeo Jeong’s Character Arc
If you’re planning a rewatch, or if you’re still processing that ending, look for these specific nuances in his character:
- Watch the Hands: Notice how his demeanor changes when he’s holding a medical tool versus a Go stone.
- The Sound of Water: Pay attention to when the background noise shifts to that rhythmic dripping. It’s the key to his internal trauma.
- The "Mask" of Politeness: Observe the moments where his "doctor persona" slips when he’s talking to the bullies, especially Yeon-jin.
Joo Yeo Jeong is a reminder that sometimes, the "good guys" are just the ones whose monsters happen to be pointing in the same direction as yours.
To really understand the weight of his character, you have to stop looking for a hero and start looking for a companion. He didn't save her from the fire; he just stepped into it so she wouldn't have to burn alone.
Next time you’re watching, pay close attention to the scene in the morgue. It’s the moment where he realizes exactly who Dong-eun is and what she’s doing—and instead of being horrified, he chooses to be useful. That’s the real Joo Yeo Jeong.